Horizon
by MyImmortal329
Summary: Carol reflects on a cold, winter Alexandrian morning.


Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead.

Horizon

The sun is just reaching out from the horizon as Carol opens the curtains and peers out over Alexandria. It's calm. Silent. Still. It's a far cry from the chaos of months ago, and the Wolves are a distant but painful memory. Many lives will never be replaced. Many faces are still emblazoned in her mind.

She taps her fingertips gently against the cool glass. A white coating of snow blankets the town. She sees a few young men out in the west field, no doubt sneak outs who have come out to horse around in the early morning hours. She shakes her head, a sad smile pulling at her lips as she thinks about how not long ago, the idea of snowball fights and children laughing was as dead to the world as she was. Dead and hollow. Empty.

Now she feels the warmth of the carpet under her feet, the heat from the flames in the fireplace by the wall comforting her weary frame. She leans her forehead against the glass, breath steaming up the pane as the first rays begin to peak over the hills.

She remembers the flames, the ash falling like black snow, the bodies buried under the rubble as the Wolves came. She sees the scars on her hands—pink and faded now—from digging through the rubble, making airways, pulling bodies from the debris. She remembers the crack of lumber over her head, the weight of something on her back, the way her legs collapsed, the way his arms pulled around her and dragged her to safety. She remembers the blood on his arms staining her clothes.

She closes her eyes, and she puts her hand to her heart, a reminder that she fought, that she survived, that she was never dead to begin with. Since time began, the world has always changed. And it changes again.

She smiles as pink and orange begin to stain the sky, chasing away the dusky gray hue of passing snow clouds. She hears Judith down the hall, babbling in her crib, no doubt ready for some familiar face to come and smile at her, remembering that not long ago, keeping Judith quiet meant the difference between life and death.

A knock sounds at the door, and she quickly glances toward the bed. He doesn't sleep well these days, and last night was the first full sleep he'd had in a long time. She quickly pulls a shawl over her shoulders and goes to the door. She opens it a crack, and there he is, staring up at her with those sad eyes, those eyes she'd tried to ignore for weeks when they'd first come to Alexandria.

"What's wrong? You have another bad dream?" He nods. She sighs softly and steps out into the hall, wrapping her arms around him as he rests his head against her chest. "It's ok to talk about it, you know?"

"I miss my mom," Sam says softly. "I miss my brother, too."

"I know," Carol whispers. "And you should miss them. It keeps them with you." Sam sniffles and nods his head. She's told him this many times before. She kisses the top of his head, and she rubs his back until she's sure he's going to be ok. And then she pulls back and puts her hands on his shoulders. "Why don't you get Judy some breakfast?"

"Ok," Sam says with a nod, wiping at his eyes. He starts to walk away, and she starts to turn, but she feels him tug on her hand. "Carol?"

"Hmm?" she asks, turning to him.

"I'm glad you're my new mom."

"I'm glad, too, Sam," she replies, giving him a sad smile before he walks away. Her boy. Her son.

She retreats to the bedroom again, and she stands in front of the fire, warming her hands. She hears the bed shift, the creak of the floor under his steps as he moves up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, warming her. He's a furnace; her own personal furnace. His arms carry fresh scars. He carries a deep scar along his cheek, a cruel reminder of torture he endured before she found him, before they escaped the Wolves together. She runs her hands along the scars, silently reminding him of what they fought for. This. Now.

"You sleep ok?" he asks, nuzzling the back of her neck, scruff scraping along the skin, a welcome sensation on this cold, winter morning.

"Not really," she admits, as he rests his chin on her shoulder, kissing her neck. "I was watching you sleep." He sighs then, and she feels him slump a little, but she squeezes his arm and turns her head to meet his lips with a kiss. "No nightmares?"

"No nightmares," he murmurs. "Think it's 'cause I know you're safe. Just took a while, I guess."

"He's still having them," she whispers, turning in his arms, eyes wet with unshed tears as he rests his head against her forehead. "I don't know how to help him, Daryl."

"I'll talk to him," he promises, rubbing slow circles on her back. And then he kisses her again, and when she pulls back, she buries her face against his neck, inhaling the scent of him as his warmth radiates through her. She feels safe, home in his arms. She remembers the first night he'd held her and let her talk and cry for hours as she finally let go of everything she'd been holding onto. She remembers lying back against Daryl's chest with Sam's sleepy head in her lap. She remembers whispering her truths aloud as she stroked the sleeping boy's hair. She remembers Daryl's arms tightening around her, comforting her as she relived each moment with the girls at the grove. She remembers it all, and she each good morning kiss they share is a silent thank you for everything he's done for her, for Sam, for their family.

He pulls back, tilting her chin and wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Hey. We got through this. We're still here."

"We are," she says with a nod, smiling up at him as he leans in to kiss her forehead.

"C'mon." He takes her hand in his. "Let's go back to bed."

"But the kids…"

"Sam's good with Judy," Daryl says quietly. "He can take care of her for a few minutes." He pulls her into his arms. "Let me take care of you." She blushes, looking down, but he's not laughing. He tilts her chin up again, presses a kiss to her lips, and he leads her back to the bed, as the orange and pink sunrise begins to flood through the frosty window pane. He lays her down and crawls in behind her, stroking her hair as they lay together in their bed, the place where everything makes sense for her, even if just for a little while.


End file.
